


Amsterdam

by TriptocaineAndThirium



Category: Heavy Rain
Genre: (on Norman’s part), Angst, Drug Addiction, M/M, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 17:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriptocaineAndThirium/pseuds/TriptocaineAndThirium
Summary: He’s only trying to protect him and Shaun. They’d be better off without him and his problems. At least that’s what Norman keeps trying to tell himself.Inspired by and named for the song “Amsterdam” by Daughter.





	Amsterdam

**Author's Note:**

> This was a pain in the butt to post because my phone decided to screw me over by deleting the formatting I had and making me paste the document back in paragraph by paragraph.

_It’s for the best._

 

Norman tries so hard to convince himself of this as he slowly removes himself from the tangle of limbs that he and his lover became over the course of the previous night. This is the penultimate part of the destructive cycle he’s started. A cycle that Ethan has no knowledge of.

 

He wants so badly to tell him. He’s seen the terrors of his withdrawal before, during one of his failed attempts to resist Triptocaine. He’d had to pass it off as some sort of illness; he still doesn’t think Ethan believes that. The drug has no appeal to him anymore, he hates himself every day for taking it. But he needs it to live now, his body has become so acclimated to taking it that stopping at this point would hurt worse than an overdose.

 

He knows Ethan would be disgusted with him if he knew the truth. Shaun would want nothing to do with him either. What family would want a drug addict around? That’s why he hasn’t gone to visit his own family since joining the FBI. They don’t ask questions; they chalk his lack of visits up to his work. It’s half of the truth, at least.

 

_Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. You’re so pathetic, Norman. How could I love someone like you?_

 

He doesn’t want to think of Ethan like that. He wants to think that Ethan would only ask to know the truth, and that he would accept it. He wants to think maybe he’ll think it was his fault for not noticing anything earlier, and then Norman will get the chance to comfort him. But his fears get to him, and so he tries to convince himself that it’s just better to hide everything.

 

Pulling on his clothes, he lightly pats the pocket of his pants to ensure that his “medicine”, as he’s started calling it - like a codename of sorts - is still secured inside. He turns to the bed again, and observes Ethan’s sleeping form. The older man seems none the wiser to the fact that Norman is no longer in the bed with him. He hates leaving like this, but it’s the only way to keep this hidden. It’s the only way to keep Ethan safe.

 

Quietly walking into the bathroom and feeling the coldness of the tile against his feet, the agent observes himself in the mirror. He doesn’t often like to look at himself; he is always reminded of how much of a fuck-up he is. It hurts to see his reflection, not just because of the disappointment he has in himself, but because he can perfectly pick out the things he knows Ethan will hate about him if he knows the truth.

 

Running a hand through his hair, Norman turns on the faucet and splashes water on his face; despite the noise Ethan is never awake to see him leave. He both hates and is glad for that. Once he’s cleaned his face, he leaves the bedroom and goes to the front door, finding his shoes and coat in their places. As quietly as possible, he opens the door and steps out into the darkness of the early morning. He gets into his car and starts it. He is afraid to think of what he’s leaving behind again, because he knows that if he thinks of it here he won’t be able to leave.

 

Later, in the solace of a lonely blue haze, he dreams of Ethan, of the wonderful feeling of kissing him, of his touch, of the beauty of his eyes. And he hates himself for loving every bit of it.

—————————————

When he wakes up, Norman is not here with him. He’s always gone early.

Ethan never stops wishing that he would just stay for once. But he’s given up on asking. Norman will stay when he’s ready to. He can’t force him to. He knows the profiler has a preference for keeping to his own, a consequence of living alone for a long time. At least he always comes to him, even if for only a while; the father can find solace in that. But does that make him selfish for wanting him to stay?

When Shaun finally wakes up and enters the kitchen, enticed out of bed by the scents of breakfast, he immediately starts asking questions. “Where is Norman?” he asks around a mouthful of food. Ethan gently chastises him for talking with his mouth full, and the boy swallows his food before continuing. “Why does he never stay here?”

Ethan has no idea how to answer that. And that worries him.

He’s started to notice things. Things like the “incident” where Norman without warning ran into the bathroom and threw up three times in a row, then collapsed onto the floor shaking and shivering as though his skin was coated with ice. When Ethan asked what was the matter, the agent had only smiled weakly at him and told him it was nothing he couldn’t handle, that he was only a bit sick; Ethan doesn’t think it’s the full truth. He wants to know more, but he’s getting increasingly worried that Norman won’t tell him. More than once he’s thought of just going through Norman’s things when he’s here, in order to find the answers he seeks. The thought stings; it makes his mind drift to memories of a motel, of the betrayal he felt when he discovered Madison’s notes on him. In that instant he had known, she was not the one for him. The passion they briefly shared had tainted him; but the love he has for Norman makes him feel pure, feel whole again, because he trusts him more than he ever trusted Madison. Norman doesn’t deserve to to feel the same empty, bitter feeling of betrayal he did; and Ethan is more than a little fearful that Norman would think he wasn’t the one for him if he found the answers himself without his permission.

His son’s voice calling to him brings him out of his thoughts. “Dad? Are you okay?”

Ethan offers a smile, nodding at Shaun. “Yes, I’m fine, son. Just thinking.” He frowns down at his plate once he realizes he hasn’t eaten any of his breakfast, while Shaun’s plate is cleaned of any food.

Shaun’s eyes are filled with worry. “Are you sure? You looked sad...are you thinking about Norman?”

Ethan has always been an honest person; and after all he can never lie to his son. “Yes,” he sighs, smile falling. “I don’t know why he never stays. I miss him.”

Shaun looks at him, with an innocent curiosity replacing the worry on his face. “Are you going to ask him to stay? You always seem happier when he’s here. It reminds me of before…” There is no hurt in his expression when he mentions before. It surprises Ethan a little. Before is basically the generalization of everything before the Origami Killer; some things in that timeframe will always be too difficult to name, but calling it “before” seems to work for them just fine. Ethan always knows what Shaun refers to when he mentions it.

Before long, the conversation shifts away from Norman’s absence into better topics. Amid the normality of it all, the peacefulness of it, Ethan still finds himself wanting; the ache in his heart never subsides. He wants Norman here now, he doesn’t want him to keep leaving him here, aching, wanting, _needing_ him. He hopes that Norman feels the same just so it would be that much easier to welcome him fully into his life. He wants Norman to stay.

But Ethan doesn’t want to force him. So he waits.

—————————————

The two things in this world that are ever able to make Norman sleep peacefully are his precious Triptocaine, and the comfort of being held by Ethan.

But there is always a downside. For Norman’s entire life, there have always been downsides. But this one is as constant and ever-present as the rain in the fall. He hates the way that he hates himself. But he can’t stop it, not anymore. It’s as if the shadows creeping along the cracks of his mind have finally found their way inside and found a home inside of him. He feels them reach like tendrils from his hands every time he touches Ethan, feels them drift softly around him when he speaks to him. He can’t hurt him. He won’t.

But it’s never that easy.

He wants to stop needing the warmth Ethan provides to him. He wants to stop craving his gentle touch, to stop liking the way Ethan’s eyes seem to always focus on him whenever he is around, to stop admiring the way their bodies seem to fit together, as if they were meant to be occupying the same space so closely. He wants to stop loving Ethan, if only it means Ethan won’t have to worry about constantly protecting him and dealing with his addiction and all the other things that come with being the lover of Norman Jayden, disaster extraordinaire.

Memories of soft brown hair against his palm, the cold metal of handcuffs, the blade of a katana just barely grazing pale skin, and the whirring and grating of an industrial waste crusher fill his mind, reminding the agent that he has already risked so much for the man he is so desperately in love with. So why can’t he do this? It should be easier than this. He wouldn’t even have to see him, he could just leave. But he doesn’t want to see or even imagine the look of pain on Ethan’s face. That alone would make him want to stay.

_But you can’t,_ he thinks to himself. _What would be worse, leaving with your secret intact or letting him know how much of a failure of a person you are?_

Ethan’s got his own issues. He doesn’t need Norman to complicate things. Norman would only become a burden to the Mars family, another reminder of the trauma they went through. Neither Ethan nor Shaun need more reminders, not when both of them have enough. He has to go. He _has_ to. All Norman does is bring pain to everyone he knows, even if he doesn’t mean to. He wants more than anything to be able to spare them from it.

Norman turns on his phone, squinting at the bright light contrasting against the darkness of his room, and navigates to his contacts. It’s almost too easy to find Ethan among them. He goes to their messages, feeling a nervousness welling up in his stomach as he puts a finger up to the keypad. His hand shakes, but he is determined to see this through.

_Ethan, I can’t come over tonight. I don’t feel well_ , he types. It’s both a lie and a truth. He hits send, and almost immediately afterward his phone pings with a response.

_I could come over there instead, if you want. What’s wrong?_ Norman pauses for a moment. He feels like he should be somewhat truthful here, at least; even if the cause of why he feels this way is far from true.

_I feel a little nauseous and cold, and my head aches. Might’ve been something I ate._ Or rather, something he didn’t take that he needs. He hasn’t been able to find the vial since he left Ethan’s house the other day. A stab of paranoia hits him sharply; what if he left the vial over there? What if Ethan finds it and asks him about it? Worse, what if Shaun gets hold of it and takes some of it by accident? What will he do then?

_Well, Shaun and I are here if you need anything. And you know I would take care of you if you wanted me to._ Norman smiles faintly. He knows this all too well; but every time he’s always denied Ethan that chance. He wonders what it would be like to be able to love Ethan without fear of hurting him with his problems, without fear of lying to him.

It’s a fantasy so much more enticing, and so much more impossible, than anything ARI could ever conjure up.

—————————————

An hour later, Ethan finds a vial on the floor of his bedroom; it must have rolled underneath the bed. The substance inside is of unknown origin. It’s blue, and powdery, and when he pours some of it onto his palm to get a better look he gets a foreboding feeling as he wonders what it could be. It’s most likely Norman’s, since he’s never seen it before, and it’s likely either some sort of medicine….or drugs. He hopes and prays it’s the former.

There’s the sound of a car in his driveway. He knows it’s Norman without having to look. The agent is the only one who ever comes to the house anyways, besides a few of Shaun’s friends here and there. He wonders why Norman is here; the younger man had texted him a while ago saying that he didn’t feel well. But he can’t turn him away; he could never resist a possible opportunity to take care of his lover.

Standing from the bed, Ethan stretches a little before walking to the front door to open it for Norman. The first thing he notices is that he doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping well; his hair is a mess, and there are dark circles under his eyes, which are glazed over and red. Norman is definitely still sick.

“Norman? What are you doing here? You look terrible, you told me you were sick,” the older man asks in concern. Norman’s hands twitch, and he looks around almost nervously.

“I think I left my, uh, my medicine over here. Do you know where it is? I really need it,” Norman says, eyes never meeting Ethan’s. The father gets a sense that something is definitely off. He remembers the vial, and he feels a bitter feeling settle in the bottom of his stomach. It’s drugs. Norman’s reaction is all he needs.

“Norman,” he says lowly, taking the vial from his pocket. Norman’s eyes widen once he notices Ethan has it. “Is this medicine, or drugs?” He doesn’t care if the question is blunt. He needs answers, and he’s going to get them.

Norman is silent. Ethan already knows the answer.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Norm? Have you told anyone? Or were you too worried that I wouldn’t love you anymore, that Shaun would hate you, that the FBI wouldn’t consider you their _poster boy_ anymore?” he hisses. He should feel bad for what he’s saying, and how he says it. But he doesn’t. He just feels numb. “I trusted you. Why would you lie to me? Me, of all people?”

Norman swallows thickly, eyes darting around the room as if an answer is written somewhere on the walls. “I didn’t…..I didn’t lie to you, Ethan. I just...couldn’t tell you.”

_I wanted to tell you the truth, but I couldn’t. I was afraid that you may not believe me. I was afraid that you’d ask me to go. All I want is for you to find your son alive, and when it’s all over I want to be with you._

_You lied to me. I trusted you and you used me. I will never be able to trust you again._

Ethan sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t want to yell at Norman like he had to Madison back in the motel. This is a different issue altogether. But he can’t help feeling bitter again. His love life seems tainted with lies and secrets ever since he and Grace divorced. And somehow he is always at fault. He’s always the one who ends it. But _this_ , the relationship he has with Norman, he doesn’t want to lose that. This situation in particular makes him feel worse. He should have noticed the signs of an addiction. He should have known something.

He doesn’t want to yell at Norman, but it turns out he doesn’t have to.

“I never wanted to lie to you, I never wanted to keep this from you! But I was scared, Ethan, I was goddamn terrified! I knew you would hate me, and I already hate myself enough! I wanted to leave so you wouldn’t know, so I wouldn’t have to watch you hate me! But you know now, it’s too late! So go on, just say it! Say that you hate me!”

“I don’t,” Ethan says gently. “I don’t….for god’s sake, Norman, I could never hate you. I just want to-“ He is interrupted by Norman pushing him back.

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need it any more than I need that vial in your hand.” Norman’s voice trembles. “But I can’t. I don’t deserve your help, you don’t need this kind of burden in your life. I….I should go. Goodbye, Ethan.” Before Ethan can say anything more, suddenly the door is closing on him, slowly. The vial is out of his hand and in Norman’s, and it’s the last thing he sees before the door clicks shut. It all happens so fast and yet so slow.

_No. No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. He can’t leave. He can’t leave me._

Once he recovers from the initial shock, Ethan rushes out the door intending to follow Norman. But the car is already in the process of leaving the driveway, and Ethan can do nothing more but stand there and watch. He watches Norman’s car back out and into the street, heading up the road until it’s out of sight. Retreating back into the house, he goes to his room and lays on the bed.

He really needs to wash the sheets; they smell too much like Norman now. He needs to clean everything, make it seem like he was never here at all. He feels so sick, and bitter, and cold, and empty. Betrayed, again. Lied to, again. Alone, again.

That’s when the tears come. And they don’t stop until the next morning, when Ethan awakes to find Shaun curled up sleeping next to him, arms around his father like he’s latched on to him. A small smile forms on his face, and he gently kisses Shaun’s forehead before laying down again to sleep some more. He knows he’s going to feel like hell whenever he decides to actually wake up, but he can’t really be bothered by it too much right now.

Norman has left him wanting, again. And the ache is there, painfully, like a part of him has been ripped out. Everything hurts so much, he misses the days when Norman was here. It seems like forever ago that they would lie beside one another, even though it’s only been maybe a few hours, barely a day. But who could blame him? His depression always influences him to think the worst whenever something happens. Right now he thinks Norman won’t ever come back to him.

It hurts even more because of how true it seems, and how true it almost turns out.

He waits, waits, and waits. Norman doesn’t come back.

Finally, after months have gone by, months of wondering if he should say something or wait for Norman to, he gathers up the courage and dials Norman’s number on the house phone. He doesn’t want to use his cell phone because he knows he’ll get caught up in looking through old messages and remembering what he and Norman used to be.

“ _Hi, this is Norman Jayden. For one reason or another I’m not at the phone right now, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can._ ” Ethan’s heart sinks a little, but he forces his voice to remain steady. He needs Norman to know that he is still here for him.

“Hi, Norman, it’s Ethan. Look, I know things didn’t turn out the way we wanted. I’m sorry I got a little mad. I’m sorry if anything I said drove you away. I’m sorry if you’re mad at me, and I get if you don’t want to speak to me anymore. I just….I miss you, Norman. So much….and….and I don’t care if you have an addiction, alright? I still love you….I could never hate you….y-you believe that, right?” He goes silent, as though he’s waiting for a reply. After a few moments he breathes a heavy, shuddering sigh. “Just….whenever you can….please call me back. I miss you….and...if you’ll allow me the chance….I want to start over. You and me. No more secrets. I….I love you, Norman. I always will.” Ethan’s hand shakes as he sets the phone back on the receiver, and a few tears spill down his face.

He expects Norman to at least listen to the message. Unless of course, he blocked Ethan’s number. He hopes that isn’t the case, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

What he isn’t expecting, though, is to hear his cell phone ring sometime early the next morning. He often forgets to turn his ringer off.

He stumbles, startled and bleary-eyed, out of bed and grabs his phone, swiping the screen to answer the call. “Hello?” His voice is hoarse, and just as he is about to clear his throat he hears a voice that makes his heart stop.

 

“Ethan? It’s Norman.…”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wanted to write an ending to this where Norman leaves without telling Ethan about his addiction, or one where Ethan tells him to leave after finding out, tired of the lies his lovers seem to tell, and he breaks up with Norman, but I just didn’t have it in me to actually write either one so I changed it.


End file.
